Puppet Master
by Mdme Butterfly
Summary: When a JAG officer is killed, the NCIS team is called in to investigate, but the FBI, with the Lightman Group in tow, demand an interview with their only lead, citing jurisdiction over the case of a serial killer called, 'The Puppet Master'.


**A/N:** This is a cross-over I started writing and would very much like to finish. It's set in Season 2 of 'Lie to Me' and Season 7 of 'NCIS'.

**Disclaimer:** None of the characters or concepts of these respective shows belong to me, they are the property of Fox and CBS. No profit is being made by their being published.

Lieutenant Commander Laura Keenan stepped through the door to her Georgetown apartment. The tiles clicked under her weary steps and her keys jingled against the glass of the table in her entrance hall. She paused to breathe in the respite of silence, the long day still held tight in the french roll holding back her auburn hair. Nothing moved as she tried to shake all that had happened. The old clock on the hall chimed the eleventh hour. She lifted her head to the sound and, as if wakened, began to walk towards the sitting room. She discarded her briefcase and handbag on the sofa delaying her collapse to peer at the mail in her hand. Rubbing the back of her neck, she looked at the handwritten envelope that lay between two printed bills. She frowned at it. It was rigid and by the circular imprint, it appeared to contain some kind of CD. She flicked it open and stared at the contents. It was a rewritable disc. Her heart began to race as she emptied it into her hand and read the title written in neat, black handwriting, "For Laura. Thank you."

She stared at it. After so many weeks, such direct contact seemed almost too much to ask for. She rushed to her stereo and shook as she waited for the disc slot to open. Decades later, it accepted the shiny message. There was a crackling sound, almost like an old record. Keenan listened closely, leaning towards the speakers.

"Laura I," the voice was soft and Keenan listened carefully, "I'm sorry that I've been such a coward. You deserve so much more." Laura eyes widened in surprise, as the voice became clearer. The voice she heard was not the one she had expected, "Maybe after this I'll be able to say so much more. You were always so much more eloquent than I… I love… love you. Laura Keenan, you're perfect." She frowned, totally astonished, unable to make sense of what she had just heard. Nothing made sense. The recording clicked and she could hear music fading in.

_I need you to reach me, teach me how _

_to love._

_I need you to reach me, teach me how _

_to love._

'_Cause I must have got it wrong, if I loved then it's gone…_

_I've been living without it for oh so long._

_That's the way it goes I suppose._

_Made enough mistakes between _

_the two of us to sink this thing._

_We're still clinging on for life._

Keenan could not move. Every sense tingled as the usually casual sound of the Hoosiers sunk reality into her bones. She still lingered near the speakers. The dots connected and horror shattered her logic. There was a click to her left and she spun her head in time to see an intricate contraption set in motion by the recording. Before she could move, or call out, she was dead. A pool of her blood spread slowly, delicately across her marble floors as the track continued to play menacingly into the night.

"What a way to welcome the Festive Season," Special Agent Timothy McGee commented as he photographed Laura Keenan's body from the edge of a rapidly drying scarlet puddle.

"Nothing says 'I love you' like a crossbow to the face. Say it just the way you want to this Christmas…" Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo mimicked a hundred Christmas advertisements that plagued televisions at this time of year as he looked on with fascinated disgust. Keenan was sprawled across her living room floor having been hit squarely in the face with a 12 inch sporting arrow launched from a complex arrangement in the adjoining room. Special Agent Ziva David examined the weapon carefully, her latex gloves moving gingerly over the place which should have held the firing mechanism.

"This was not set up by a professional," she said. Tony stood to join her in the next room. He examined the weapon himself. After a pause, he announced with much professionalism,

"No projectile guidance system, no streamlined shaft for maximum speed and efficiency," his voice was waxed with confidence, "obviously not a professional's weapon. Then of course there's the obvious use of B-Grade material for the bowstring." Ziva stared at him, her right eyebrow slightly raised in an unreadable expression. Tony smirked at her. She looked back at the crossbow and pulled a set of tweezers from her kit. Leaning forward, she pulled a small white square of paper from the butt of the weapon. She held it up before her partner without a change in expression.

"He left the price tag on it…" she said. Tony's smug look faltered as he stared at the square and then back at Ziva as her face lit up slightly with suppressed amusement.

"Amateur," he mocked with a hesitant chuckle.

"What am I looking at?" Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs' voice drifted in from the living room. Ziva and Tony stood as if caught in the headlights. Ziva holding the price tag up between them. McGee spoke first.

"Lieutenant. Commander Laura Keenan. This is her apartment. Got a call from the neighbour, she and the victim usually go jogging together every morning. When Keenan didn't answer her door, neighbour called her office and finally used the key she had from looking after Keenan's cat last month. Found her here shortly after."

"Neighbour's name?"

"Amelia Martin," McGee checked his notepad.

"What do we know about Keenan?"

"Bit of a JAG corps star. She was the prosecutor that put Michael Lebowitz away for Command Rape in Iraq," he stopped, looking down with regret at the corpse, "she was just named Chief of Staff over at Falls Church." Gibbs' face was clouded over in thought and silence rang out around the four NCIS agents.

"What happened to the cat?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, although police did find cat food and a dish in the kitchen. You think Martin's lying?" Gibbs did not answer.

"David!" Tony jumped at the sharpness in his boss's voice, "weapon?"

"12 inch Crossbow," she stated simply, "from the way it is set up in this fixed position, it was designed to fire once the target was in place. I do not know how it was activated. There is no triggering mechanism." Gibbs walked over to see for himself. He looked at the clumsy assembly,

"Home made?"

"Store bought," Tony piped in, "it's amazing what you can find on sale at WalMart." Ziva held up the price tag. Gibbs frowned at it before Tony continued, "Pity this guy seems to have forgotten his instruction manual…"

"The killer is obviously not very experienced," Ziva said.

"Or he doesn't care what we find out about his equipment," Gibbs disappeared again into his thoughts. Ziva bagged the tag and stared at the weapon again, trying to ascertain how it had been set off. A trigger was pretty important when firing a weapon. Tony looked around the apartment. The walls were lined with family photos taken in some country location. Not a local girl then. A large shot of Lt. Cmmdr Keenan in her dress whites posing with a law degree caught his eye. She was a stunner, her green eyes and auburn hair peeking out from under her standard issue hat. Her eyes spoke volumes.

"Get the bow to Abby's lab," Gibbs broke Tony's admiration, "see what she can get from it. Also, see if she can trace that price tag. Maybe we can find the store it was bought from."

"Yes Boss," Tony nodded. Gibbs turned and walked for the door,

"Call me when Ducky gets here," Gibbs finished. Ziva nodded even though he could no longer see her. McGee had stopped snapping shots.

"Such a waste," he shook his head, "she had so much ahead of her."

"It's always a waste," Tony said, "even when they don't."

"Agent David?" Ziva looked up and frowned at the sight of a young woman standing in the doorway of the living room. She was certain she did not know the blonde, whose blue eyes were trained on the blood all over the floor.

"How did you get in here?" Tony asked, walking through to where she was standing. Ziva followed, noticing that the young woman ignored him altogether.

"Do I know you?" she asked. The woman looked up, obviously traumatized by the sight of Keenan's body.

"Who let her in here?" Tony called out to the police who were supposedly assisting.

"Agent David," the woman spoke again without conviction, "You have to help her."

"What is your name?" Ziva tried to fix her identity.

"Ray," she whispered. She looked Ziva in the eye, "It's Katlyn-Ray, but my friends call me Ray. Can you help her?" Ziva looked up at Tony.

"How do you know me?" she asked.

"She told me I could find you here," Ray muttered.

"Who did?" Ziva did not understand.

"Laura," she said as if the answer were obvious. Ziva looked at the corpse and then back at the young blonde.

"Who?" Tony asked, but again was ignored.

"Did you find the CD?" Ray asked, moving on. What CD? McGee looked immediately at the stereo.

"I'm going to find out who let her in," Tony grumbled. Ziva had still not spoken again, who was this woman?

"Over here?" McGee's voice was thick with confusion. Ziva turned to face him. He held a disc up that he had removed from the stereo. "'To Laura. Thank you.' That's all it says."

"Ray, how did you know Laura?" Ziva asked.

"I met her this morning…" Ray's voice was full of horrified awe. Ziva pulled the woman away from the living room, finally totally disturbed by the continuing focus on the dead officer.

"Ray," she looked into the woman's blue eyes, "where did you meet her?"

"She woke me up. She told me the trap had been sprung. That it was the CD," Ziva stared at her. Trap? CD? How could she know this and how had she passed the crime scene barrier?

"Ray…"

"No one saw her at the barrier," Tony was back, "maybe she's been inside this whole time." Ziva was unsure.

"She's dead, isn't she?" Ziva turned back to those blue eyes. They welled up with tears and the calm, shocked demeanor disappeared suddenly into hysteria. She struck out at Ziva and screamed so violently, it seemed impossible someone with such a petite frame could expel such a sound. She pounded her fists with a vengeance and Tony had to help Ziva restrain her. She continued to scream, demanding that she be able to speak with Laura. Ziva had no idea what to do. Finally, officers from the barrier appeared and helped bundle her into a nearby patrol car. Ziva argued that she had pertinent information about their investigation and it was agreed that the local PD would take her into custody until special arrangement could be made for someone of her condition over at NCIS. It had all happened so quickly that Ziva could barely get a handle on it. She watched with confusion as 'Ray' pounded on the car window and seemed to call out to her.

"What's all this about?" Ducky had arrived.

"Just your run-of-the-mill crazy," Tony smiled, "just to keep things interesting."

"She knows something," Ziva did not look at the others as they sedated the young woman.

"She knows who you are for one," Tony queried her with his statement.

"She knows the victim's name and the manner in which she died," Ziva looked at Ducky. He frowned.

"Odd indeed," he mused, "she doesn't look like a killer."

"They rarely do," Tony muttered.

**A/N: **Please read and review! It'd be much appreciated, I could use the constructive criticism. I'll update as soon as exams are over. :)


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